Painting a Trailer: What I've Learned (So Far)

Last spring, I was the lucky beneficiary of a free trailer--a 1961 Aloha compact. I had never painted a vintage trailer before, but there was no question that the trailer needed a fresher face than this (seen on the day I brought her home).

What did I have to lose? I'd probably never get a better opportunity to learn as I went along. Here's a look at the progress so far:

I'm now making plans to paint another trailer, and based on what I've learned from this one, I'll do this:

* Strip the lights, trim, and windows. If I'm going to go to all the time, filth and bother to do a paint job, then it's worth it in the long run to reseal the trim and all the windows with new butyl tape and sealant. It's also a lot easier to do the sanding and other prep for the painting itself when you don't have trim to worry about. (Tip: Leave the windows in until you're done cleaning and resealing the roof. You'll end up with less mess inside.)

* Deal with the roof first. If the roof leaks, and even if it doesn't, there's no point in doing anything else until you're sure the roof is OK.  The toughest part is getting the surface cleaned, especially if there are layers of old roof coating up there. Prepare for this to take a while. Instead of using caulk, I applied Eterna-Bond roof-seal tape over the seams and around the vent cover. The tape is 4 inches wide,  hyper-adhesive, and designed to grip through a wide extreme of temperatures. It comes in a roll, like duct tape, and you press down a piece cut to match the length of the seam. That part goes fast!

* Prepare for long periods of The Uglies. There's nothing pretty about the cleaning/sanding/priming process of getting prepping a trailer for paint. You will get filthy. And tired. And sweaty. And discouraged. You'll be assaulted by fine particulate as you're grinding and sanding, and will wear a respirator if you're smart.

* Wait for optimal painting conditions.  After you've gotten this far, it's tempting to forge straight ahead with painting, but don't do it unless conditions are just right. Read the label on your paint, for optimal air temperature and humidity conditions. I had this trailer at the primed stage by the end of July, but by then, it was too hot to paint it, even in the shade. I ended up waiting until early October before spraying on the top coat.

* Clean and polish the windows and trim before reinstallation. Check out the window and trim in the top photo, then compare to this one. Take my advice, and go power-tool for this job; I used Mother's aluminum polish and a hand-held electric buffer with cone-shaped head, also by Mother's, that I bought at my local tire store.

* Stock up on stainless steel screws. These are the best for putting everything back together again.

* Spring for the cost of new light covers. There's nothing very redeemable about faded, brittle, 40-and-50-year-old pieces of plastic. In the overall scheme of things, the cost of new light covers and flanges isn't all that great, and they add so much to the makeover, overall.

Trailer Painting: Transformation in Progress

Just thought I'd share a few shots of my 1961 Aloha compact as she's been getting her DIY facelift by me and my helper Randy.

Here's the rear of the trailer on the day I got it home. Note the heavy caulking around the window and down the J-rail trim. Cleaning off the moss and lichen growth was nothing compared to getting rid of all that caulking. I probably spent 8 hours just on getting the trim rail clean enough to unscrew it from the trailer, and another 12 cleaning all the trim down to bare metal.

This is the point at which the trailer was stripped of all trim, lights, and windows, and was ready for minor repairs and sanding. We'd already cleaned the roof and resealed its seams and around the vent. Randy worked some magic with Bondo, filling in small cosmetic dents like the one to the left of the door. Then we got to know every square inch of the trailer, making her surface as smooth as we could get it via sanding with green scrubbies and an orbital hand power sander.

Then she had to go gray-ugly for a while, with primer applied where needed (some of the old but original paint stuck on well enough to serve as a primed surface).

This is her status now, with a fresh coat of white automotive paint to match my white Ford truck. Once the paint is fully cured, we'll restore her red stripe. Then the cleaned and polished windows will go back in, and we'll reapply all the trim and seal it. She's getting new light covers and reflectors all the way around. She'll need new tires and cosmetic attention to her wheel surfaces as well.

When finally done, she ought to be pretty darn cute. And I'll be able to take what I learned from this trailer, plus all the tools I purchased to do the job, and apply both to the next one.

Of which there are several, waiting their turn!

Trailer Painting, Underway

In May, I was the beneficiary of a nice older man's goodwill when he decided to give his 1961 Aloha compact away to a good home. It hadn't been used in 15 years except by some nesting wasps. After I got her home and cleaned her up (bye-bye, wasp nests!), I decided she was due for new seals and a new coat of paint.

Not that I'd ever done any of this before--I had not--but I just figured 'what the heck, it's a free trailer and as good to learn with as any.'

Many, MANY hours later, her trim was off, windows removed, her roof was cleaned of old mobile-home coating and resealed, and all the hand-sanding was complete. I used green scrubbies and an orbital hand-sander to remove old flaking paint and to get a smooth surface.

Next, on the advice of an auto-painting buddy, the bare-metal places were treated with rattle-can automotive primer.

Since this is a spare-time project, it took until the end of July to reach this point. By then, it was too hot to paint, so the next steps had to be put on hold.

Yesterday (first weekend of October), the painting planets finally aligned! Tucked into part of the barn, now a makeshift painting booth, the Aloha got a fresh coat of automotive paint applied with a Finex paint gun. Whereas I lost count of the prep-time after the 80-hours mark, this step took less than an hour.

Now I'm letting her sit, curing, for the 72 hours recommended by Auto Painting Guy. Then her red stripe will be restored, her trim and windows will go back on and in, she'll get new tires and hubcaps, a modern propane tank, and new light covers all around. She'll be like a trailer-Cinderella, ready to go to the ball.

I have no idea how long of the rest of this is going to take. But it sure will be nice to work with a CLEAN fresh surface, instead of the one I started with.

And, I can also say, without reservation, that I now understand why quotes for professional paint jobs are as high as they are.

Inside My Surprise Free Trailer (1961 Aloha Compact)

She doesn't have a name yet, but this is the free trailer I brought home after accepting it sight unseen in an offer from a friend of a friend. I didn't even know the make or year when I set out to go pick it up...the ultimate surprise package.

The trailer turned out to be a 1961 Aloha compact, last registered in 1999 and parked ever since. I had a split second to peek inside before my benefactor had her hooked up to my truck and was wishing me a safe trip home.

Twenty-five miles later, the trailer was in my driveway. Inside the wood-lined door--right where you'd need them--were a homemade, carpeted trailer step and a set of homemade wheel chocks.

The kitchen is in the front, with a sink, brown stovetop and oven, and a rose-beige countertop with tiny gold flecks.

The little sink is enameled cast iron. How about those two faucets? One for water from a tank behind the wall, one for hose-input.

The icebox, plus three roomy cabinets, are on the street-side wall. Note the magazine rack and original coppertone reading light. (I took this photo during one of the cleanup rounds.)

The gaucho/pull-out bed is across the rear. The original upholstery in brown/orange plaid was intact (though ultimately too dusty to be kept). The trailer came with two tables that attach at the walls to make a tabletop the width of the gaucho.

There was a bunk over the bed at one point; note the wooden brackets.

The interior is lined with sheets of birch. I'm not sure when Aloha made the change over to paneling, but it wasn't long after this trailer was made. The light fixture runs on propane.

Here you can see the little built-in nightstand at the left side of the door. Handy!

I spent the rest of my first day with the trailer working on her initial exterior cleanup. She had about 15 years' worth of barn dust and lichen growth to get rid of.

The trailer turned out to have a tiny flag bracket on a front J-rail. So I got her a flag after she was 'de-barned,' and she seems to fly it rather proudly--as if to say, 'Hello, I'm back!'

Next: Transformed by decor.

Saga of the Surprise Free Trailer

Thanks to one of those friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend situations, I had the recent big surprise of being offered a free trailer by an older man who wasn't using it anymore and didn't want the hassle of trying to sell it. If I would just come and get it, I could have it--title, keys, and all.

'What kind of trailer is it?' I asked him on the phone. 'Oh, it's just like those other little old trailers you girls like to run around with,' he said. 'It's not a piece of junk or anything like that--do you want it or not?'

Sight unseen and with no more information than that, I said yes. He gave me directions to his place, less than 25 miles away. I set out later that afternoon, wondering just what the surprise free trailer would turn out to be.

'It'll be an adventure, if nothing else.' I'll say!

The trailer was a few miles on the other side of Kendrick, Idaho.  That's my white Ford pickup parked at the hardware store, where I stopped to pick up a few things missing from my tool box.

I followed the directions out past the town, turning onto a country gravel road.

The road following a river for a while, where old farm buildings stood in a sliver of a valley.

Then the road got narrow and twisting as it rose up, and up, and up, to the top of a ridge I'd never been on. Hmm--I would soon be making my way back DOWN this road with a trailer. Did someone say 'adventure'?

After 2 miles of 'up,' I pulled into a manicured country yard and spotted the trailer immediately. If my heart had been pounding some while driving up the steep road, it skipped several beats when I saw the trailer--a canned ham, birch interior, all-intact little doll just waiting to be loved on again.

My benefactor, 'Mr. Frank,' helped me hook her up, and double-checked the door lock and key before I   left. 'I don't think you'll have any trouble getting her home,' he said. 'I hauled her to town and back yesterday on a test run. Did fine.' He handed me the title and I shook his hand to thank him. 'You bet,' he said. 'Have fun.'

Next thing I knew, I was headed down off the ridge with the trailer. Mr. Frank did not lie. She did fine.

Even on the switchbacks.

Half an hour later, the trailer was in our driveway, awaiting her initial cleanup.


Next time, I'll show you what I found behind the door!